Little Brother
by SPNWizard
Summary: Basically Sam-Centric one-shots based on prompts that readers request. For more information on requesting a prompt see the author's note before the first chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Everyone! This is my new story that's gonna be a series of one-shots that are based off prompts that you guys request I write! Here are few rules:**

 **1\. This is a Sam-Centric Fic, so please only send in prompts that focus of Sam while Dean is being an awesome/protective brother!**

 **2\. This is strictly a Gen. fic. No slash, just some brotherly love.**

 **3\. Any characters can be included, doesn't matter to me.**

 **4\. Prompts can range from anything that you want it to. It can be related to episodes or pre-series, doesn't matter to me. Also, it could be Sam being sick, hurt, injured, migraine... literally anything Sam-centric thing you can think of. (Please keep it PG-13 :P)**

 **5\. Have fun requesting prompts! I will try to fill as many as I can and I apologize if I accidently miss yours :-( I will give a shoutout to the person who requested a prompt before each chapter.**

 **6\. Thank you!**

 **This first prompt I got off of an OhSam comment fic meme. If the person who requested that prompt stumbles across this, I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Prompt #1: 17yr old Sam realizes that his prom/homecoming date may not be exactly ... human. But since he told Dean that he was going to be normal tonight, he has no weapons on him, and tries to take on whatever it is in hand-to-hand combat. That was not a good idea.**

* * *

Sam just wanted to be normal for one night. For once in his life, he just wanted to be a teenager and not some freak that skips town every few weeks. Sure, he had an awesome brother and even his father had is moments, but Sam craved to be seen a normal kid and not some loser who lives in a motel room. Why couldn't his father or Dean understand that much?

It was Sam's senior year and that meant one thing. Prom. He had been in living in Hell, Michigan for over two months now and the prom was just a few days away. He wanted to go more than anything, but he had a feeling that if his father ever found out about it, he'd ban Sam from going. So, Sam kept it to himself and get this... he's got a date.

Ashley Harrington, one of the most popular girls in the twelfth grade. It came as a shock when Ashley came over to him one morning and out of the blue just asked him to Prom. He was manly shocked because he could've sworn she had a boyfriend, and also why Sam? He was the exact opposite of her. Unlike Ashley, Sam was the loser and mockery of his class. Was she trying to ruin her reputation or something.

At that moment, Sam decided not to care. Hell, if the prettiest girl in his school wanted to go to prom with him, then you didn't have to ask Sam twice.

When he broke the news to his brother that afternoon, he expected his brother to be proud, not to laugh in his face.

"What's so funny?" Sam was offended.

Dean tried to contain his laughter, but was failing. "I'm sorry, but you? I'm surprised, Sammy. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud you got the girl , but Prom? Are you really that pathetic?"

"How is going to a school dance pathetic?" Sam frowned. "You went to homecoming all four years."

"Homecoming's different, man. Prom's formal and more... girly. Homecoming's where you get to screw around with the girls and they don't care," Dean smirked. "Plus, Dad's got a hunt. We're leaving in a few days."

"No we're not," Sam shook his head.

"What do you mean we're not?" Dean raised an eyebrow at his little brother.

"I am not skipping town and missing what may be my only chance at normalcy," Sam stood his ground.

"Sam, we've been through this before. Guys like us, we don't get to be normal," Dean sighed.

"We decide our own fate, Dean," Sam's stubborn streak was starting to form. "I choose this. If you can't let me have this one thing then you better think about just leaving me behind."

Dean was surprised at his brother's attitude. "Geez, man, what's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me? This damn life, Dean! I'm tired, alright? I'm so done with moving around my whole damn life. I just want to be _normal_ , Dean. I want live past twenty and I want a wife and kids and a job..."

"You have a job, Sam," Dean stated.

"A shitty ass job," Sam clarified.

"Okay, maybe we haven't had the best of an ideal childhood, Sam, but it hasn't been that bad. We have each other, we have a family," Dean reasoned. "You should be grateful for all the stuff that Dad does, alright? He deserves more respect than what you show him."

"He doesn't deserve anything for raising us the way he did," Sam shook his head.

"Now, you don't mean that..." Dean began.

"No, you know what? I've had it about up to here with your 'dad's little solider' act." Sam scoffed.

Something flared in Dean's eyes, and Sam knew that his brother's patience was wearing thin. However, Sam, in that moment, didn't have the reason to care. Why couldn't his brother understand?

"I'd advise you to watch your next words, Sam," Dean warned.

"I'm going to that dance, Dean." The younger Winchester declared. Sam started to walk towards their motel room, leaving Dean standing by the car.

"Sam, we are leaving this weekend and that is final," Dean said in a firm, barely calm voice.

Sam spun around and shouted, "Why can't you of all people be happy for me to actually find something and maybe even someone humane? Wasn't it you who always told me your dream was for me to live a normal life and have kids one day?"

"Sam!" Dean barked.

"No, I'm gonna stay, Dean. Leave my ass for all I care. I'm doing this normal, because that is something _I_ live for." Sam snapped.

He walked into the motel room and slammed the door behind him. He looked out the window in time to see Dean get back into the Impala and drive away, probably seeking out booze in a bar.

Sam just threw his backpack onto his bed and then sat on the edge of the bed, wondering why everything had to be so complicated.

* * *

Sam was surprised to see that his brother went through with his threat and left for Minnesota Saturday morning. He was woken to an empty, and surprisingly clean motel room with a note on the nightstand next to Sam's burner phone.

Now that he was completely alone, Sam didn't know why he felt sad that his brother had actually left him to fend for himself. Then again, Sam was practically asking to be left by his lonesome when they had that fight.

In fact, after their argument, Dean had not spoken to Sam for the reminder as his stay. For that, Sam felt guilty. He couldn't help but feel like he had pushed his brother away and that he may have overreacted like how he usually did in situations like that. He just wanted Dean to understand his perspective, be aware of what Sam wanted, and that was not being apart of hunting twenty-four seven. Sure, he could do a hunt every other week or month, but he wants to remain in a constant place. He wants to get a scholarship and go to college, to get a job and someday have a wife and maybe even kids... High school was ending for Sam in a few months, and Sam just wanted those months to be memorable.

When Sam went into the bathroom to get ready for the day, he noticed that something was hanging on the door hanger. Frowning, he spun around and he couldn't help the small grin that formed on his face when he saw that it was a tux. There was a post it note on the plastic wrap that read "Bitch" and Sam instantly knew where it came from. Maybe Dean did understand after all.

The dance was at eight that night and Sam was planning on hitching a bus ride to school where he was meeting Ashley. It was currently noon and Sam couldn't remember the last time that he had slept in that late, and it quite honestly felt nice.

Yeah, he could get used to a life like that.

* * *

When Sam arrived at the school five minutes before the dance started, he felt nervous. This was his actual first _maybe_ date and it scared him. He had never had something like that before, never had someone pay attention to him. Then again, he was usually never in town long enough to catch anyone's attention. Dean teased him endlessly for it, but Sam knew it was all out of good fun and humor. Sam teased him back, so they were quite even, but Dean would never admit that.

When the clock struck eight-thirty Sam started getting a little sad. Had he been stood up? It really should't surprise him if he did. Ashley was way over his league anyway. Maybe Dean had been right. Maybe this wasn't worth it.

When Sam was about to head inside for a drink, he felt someone slip their arm under his.

Sam jumped in surprise and turned around to see a beaming Ashley.

"Sorry I'm late, my Dad's car was acting up," Ashley apologized as she basically started leading him inside.

"No, it's okay," Sam quickly reassured her, but his voice stuttered a little bit.

"Anyways, lets get on with this, yeah? We need to make up for the lost time!" Ashley began tugging his arm, urging Sam to hurry inside with her.

They entered the gymnasium where the crowd was, dancing to blasting music from a DJ booth in the center. It was loud, like really loud. Sam winced at the initial impact of the loud noise piercing his ear drum.

Ashley immediately took him over to the dance floor and started dancing, and Sam did too, but a little shyly.

"So, tell me about yourself, Sam," Ashley shouted over the noise.

"What's there to talk about?" Sam shrugged.

"Oh, come on, a guy like you has got to have an interesting life!"

"You'd be surprised," Sam scoffed.

"You have a brother though, right?" Ashley frowned.

"Yeah. He's twenty-one though, so I mean, there's an age difference," Sam replied.

"Is he your guardian?" Ashley frowned.

Sam had to think about that for a moment. "Yeah, I guess he is. My Dad travels a lot for work and usually we go with him, but sometimes Dean stays to watch over me so I can focus on school." Okay, that last part was a lie, but it made him sound normal and not a freak.

"Dean's a cutie," Ashley admired. Then she realized what she said and blushed, "I mean... you are too, but..."

A chill went down Sam's spine and that was the first sign that made things feel a little... off. He ignored it.

"Trust me, you're not the first one to say that to me," Sam laughed.

"Too bad, he left, right? You must miss him," Ashley sighed. "Especially with your mom dead and your dad off hunting."

Okay, that's strike two and a little too close to home. Nausea began to boil in his stomach and the air suddenly felt claustrophobic.

"Um... I'm gonna go hunt down the men's room. I'll be right back, yeah?" Sam said.

"Of course, I'll go hunt us down something to drink," Ashley beamed that painfully blinding smile and trotted off.

As Sam speed-walked down the hallway, he was grabbing his phone, cursing himself for not bringing anything to defend himself with. The one night he thought he might not need something... Why did trouble have to find him?

Sam walked into an empty bathroom and sighed in relief, he flipped his phone open and pressed 1 on his speed-dial.

 _"Dean," His brother answered._

Sam sighed in relief. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice."

 _"You sound awfully eager."_

"I'm beginning to think I made a stupid mistake," Sam admitted.

 _"Took you long enough. I'm telling you, man, those dances are dangerous," Dean replied. "Full of horny teenagers and awful punch."_

"What?" Sam asked before shaking his head in exasperation. "No, that's not what I meant. I think something's here."

 _"Yeah, Sam. It's called Prom."_

"No. Some _thing_ as in you know what," Sam dropped his voice, not wanting someone to walk in and think he was crazy.

 _Instantly, Dean was on alert. "What are you talking about?"_

"I'm talking about my friggin' date, man. I'm pretty sure she's not entirely... human," Sam chose his words carefully.

 _"You got proof?"_

"She knows things that I've never told her. She knew your name."

 _"Everyone knows my name, Sam," Dean laughed. "You sure you're not crying wolf?"_

"She knew about Mom," Sam revealed.

 _There was the sound of breaks screeching. "I'm on my way back. Do you have anything on you?"_

"You took the car, Dean, you tell me," Sam retorted.

 _"I left you a gun under your pillow, you moron. Why didn't you take it with you?" Dean demanded._

"Maybe because it's not casual to have a gun at Prom? I'm sorry if I didn't want to be arrested!"

 _"Sam, you hang tight. Try to figure out what she... or_ it _is. I'm calling Dad, he'll want to know."_

Sam bit his lip to keep his anxiety at bay. "Just get here quick, yeah?"

 _"I'll be there as soon as I can. Be careful, Sammy."_

"I will," Sam promised before hanging up.

* * *

When Sam entered the gymnasium again, he stopped dead at the sight of everyone passed out and the music left blaring with no DJ.

"What the hell?" Sam frowned as he crouched down in front of the nearest person and checked for a pulse.

"Oh, they're alive, just... incapacitated," A girly voice dryly stated behind him.

Sam spun around to see Ashley standing near the doorway, smirking.

"What the hell are you?" Sam demanded.

"How about you come and find out?" Ashley challenged.

Without thinking, Sam charged towards the woman, getting ready for a fight. However, before Sam could comprehend what was happening, Ashley let out a piercing screech which seemed to send off waves of powerful energy. The scream swept Sam off his feet and he went flying, he hit the ground and slid across the floor for a moment.

Groaning in pain as the ringing in his ears made his head ache. He felt blood on the sides of his ears and wondered if his ear drums had burst.

"Sam Winchester, oh how I've waited for this," Ashley's faded voice snarked. Suddenly she was in front of him, grabbing the front of his shirt in a face. "Your father killed off my sister a year ago, I've waited so long for revenge. When I found out you were his son... I figured this would be the best way to get what I want."

"And what is that?" Sam shouted, but he barely heard his voice.

"Justice," Ashley punched him in the face and Sam felt his nose bleed. She held out a syringe and Sam's eyes widened. If that was what he thinks it was...

Ashley went to stab him in the chest, but Sam managed to stop her momentum just before it pierced his skin. His arms were shaking with effort as he tried to hold back the syringe from his chest. Ashley went to scream again and Sam jumped, managing to turn on his side and cover his ears. He felt something sharp pierce his shoulder and Sam jerked in surprise.

His fight response kicked in and he pushed upwards, using all of his momentum to head butt the monster. Ashley stumbled back in response and Sam snatched the syringe from his arm and paled when he saw it was empty.

"What did you do to me?" Sam shouted.

Ashley just smirked.

Sam reeled back his fist and let it fly, hitting the monster in the face. He stumbled a bit as his eyesight grew fuzzy for a moment.

"You can't fight it, Sam," Ashley growled.

"Yeah, well I don't have to," Sam snapped before running towards the wall.

"What are you doing?" Ashley frowned.

Sam pulled the fire alarm.

"No!" Ashley screamed before screeching in rage.

Sam covered his ears once more as he fell to his knees. When the screeching stopped, Sam looked up but the monster was already gone. He felt darkness seep through his consciousness and he knew no more.

* * *

When Sam came around, it was to sirens and screaming voices.

He managed to open his eyes and realize he was outside the school on a gurney that was moving. He had a breathing tube in his nose and there was an IV in his arm.

"Sam!" A voice yelled.

Sam barely heard it, and he was so out of it that he didn't know who it was until their face came into view. Someone was next to him, their pace adjusting so that they could keep up with the moving gurney.

"D'n?" Sam croaked weakly.

"Stay with me, Sammy," Dean grabbed his hand.

Everything was fuzzy and Sam felt tired. His eyes drooped close and he passed out once more.

* * *

The next time that Sam came around, it was for real. There was a beeping sound and the room smelled way to sterile. That's when Sam knew he was in the hospital.

When Sam opened his eyes he looked around his surroundings, and his eyes fell on his brother who was sitting in a chair, legs propped up on the bed, arms crossed and his head resting on his chest. He seemed to be asleep and Sam was grateful for that. Just by looking at Dean's tired posture, he knew his brother looked like crap.

"Sammy, you awake, kiddo?" A new voice asked from the doorway.

Sam looked over at John Winchester, who slowly entered the room, looking a little shaken and tired.

"What happened?" Sam frowned, his voice croaky. He winced as the pounding in his head protested the sound.

"Banshee," John looked guilty. "A revengeful one at that. You saved a lot of kids in there, Sammy."

Sam smiled, "Part of the job, right?"

"You did good," John returned the smile with a small one of his own. "Now you need to focus on recovering."

"Head hurts," Sam winced.

"I bet. You're ear drums were torn too when they found you. How's your chest?" John asked.

"A little tight," Sam admitted.

"That bitch injected you with some sort of steroid that causes your heart to beat so fast it gives out," John told him. "You're lucky you got stabbed in the shoulder and not the chest or else you would've been dead in minutes."

"'m sorry," Sam apologized.

"Why are you apologizing, kiddo?" John frowned. "If anyone should be sorry it's me. I put you in danger tonight. If I had known..."

Sam reached a hand out for his father and John grabbed his son's hand with his own and squeezed it.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

John looked at his eldest son fondly. "Finally fell asleep after running on coffee for the past two days. I kicked his ass when I heard he left you alone."

"Thought you needed him?" Sam frowned.

"I told him it could've waited a week, but apparently he didn't get that memo."

Sam just nodded and let out a yawn.

John chuckled, "Get some more rest, son. We're not going anywhere."

With those words said, Sam fell into a dreamless sleep, knowing he was safe in the hands of his family.

* * *

 **I always get nervous when posting a new story. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I'm a fairly new writer and if the characters seem a bit OOC, please feel free to give me more tips on what you think Sam or Dean act like that seem more canon. Also, feel free to send in any writing tips if I accidentally made mistakes, I'm my own editor right now so I may miss a few things.**

 **Alright, I'll leave it at that. Don't forget to feel free to request prompts either in the reviews or PM me.**

 **I will be updating this story hopefully every other week. This is currently a side story I am doing while I work on other projects.**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Set during the trials, Sam is getting sicker and sicker, and Dean, being the wonderful big brother he is, is trying so hard to take care of him, but Sam won't let him. He keeps arguing about how he's independent, how he doesn't need to be coddled, he just needs to get on with it and do his job. Cut to the brothers fighting about it and it comes out that Sam doesn't feel like he is worth taking care of (maybe because he's an abomination [like he remembers Cas saying "Sam, of course is an abomination and Dean not saying anything in his defense and all of heaven agreeing] or because of the voicemail or something.) And Dean sets him straight about how much Sam means to him.**

 **Prompt from: upandcoming2.0**

 **Sometime after 8.19 "Taxi Driver."**

 **Other Notes: Okay. I saw this prompt and I just had to jump on it. I loved writing this prompt. I hope it's what you wanted, i tried my best to fill it :P Enjoy!**

* * *

When Sam woke up that morning, he felt like shit. He even felt worse than he had felt the night before, and Sam didn't even know that was possible. Then again, with all the crap he's been through, he should consider it a blessing that he's still alive.

The first trial hadn't been bad. When Sam had killed the hellhound and chanted the words that started this whole mess, he expected some repercussions, because getting out of something like that unscathed was too lucky for him. What he didn't expect was for him to start coughing up blood. He hated that it had to be _that_ and not something that was easier to hide from his brother. Although, Sam had managed to keep it to himself for a few weeks before Dean put his foot down and told Sam he knew about the blood. Seeing the worry and hurt that were evident in his brother's eyes when they were in the car ride home was enough to make Sam feel guilty. If he had known that Dean would react the way he did... no, he still would've done the same thing. Dean was dealing with enough crap as it was and Sam really didn't want to burden him with something that Sam could handle himself perfectly fine.

Then the second trial came and went. Dean hadn't been too happy about Sam having to take a stroll through purgatory and he was silent for the first few days that followed that. Sam had assumed that it was because of Benny and how Sam failed to save him, but deep down, Sam knew it wasn't because of that and it wasn't anything Sam had done. Dean wasn't just grieving for a lost friend, but he was mad at himself for not pushing for more information before even making the decision of sending his brother back to the pit to save Bobby.

On the other hand, Sam had felt fine after he had come home from purgatory. He was a little battered and bruised, but nothing he hasn't dealt with on occasion while hunting. Then the next day came, along with the hot flashes. It started out as dizziness and heatwaves and formed into a full blown fever with everything in between. Sam was just glad he wasn't vomiting, but he didn't want to even think about it in fear that he might push his luck.

With Dean occupied for the first few days back at the bunker, Sam found it easy to hide his illness from his brother, and for that Sam was grateful. He loved his brother, but Sam really didn't want to be coddled like he was a kid again. He was an independent adult and he could take care of himself. Or at least, that's what Sam forces himself to believe. In reality, though, Sam just thought that he really wasn't _worth_ being taken care of. With all the stunts he pulled, all the evil he's released, he's surprised his brother had tolerated him for so long. Not to mention the fact that he was almost certain that Dean wasn't a big fan of the whole "chick-flick-moments" that came along with taking care of his pain in the ass little brother. He was an abomination, or at least according to Castiel, and Dean didn't say anything in is defense, so why should Sam bother to be sick if there was no one to happily take care of him?

Sam could take the shaky legs, the fever, the dizziness, but he couldn't take Dean forcing himself to do something he didn't want to, even if it included taking care of a sick Sam. That's why Sam just learned to push on and keep doing his job, it was easier to ignore the pain that way, it was easier to convince his brother that he was indeed alright.

So that's why he's not telling Dean. Sam was fine, and if he believed that then Dean would... right?

Getting unsteadily to his feet, Sam glanced at his alarm clock and saw that it read '6:00 A.M.' Basically, it was around the same time that he got up everyday, but for some reason he felt like the eight hours of sleep he had gotten were nonexistent. Sighing, he walked out of his bedroom before he could convince himself that a few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.

He didn't go to the kitchen, no, he couldn't be around food at that moment without the threat of breaking his no-vomit streak. Everything smelled like rotten meat to him, so Sam decided to ignore his growling stomach and instead go to the library to see if there was a case that could be found. It would help both of the brothers if they could get out and clear their heads by doing their job. Saving people, hunting things, it's what they did and it's what Sam practically lives for nowadays. It was an excuse to escape the hell hole of shit that's just been piling higher and higher every passing year.

He must've been in the library, sitting at a table and browsing some news sites, for almost an hour before Dean emerged, already dressed in a shirt and loose jeans.

"There you are," Dean greeted, coming up to stand by where he was sitting. "Thought you'd still be eating down in the kitchen."

"Wasn't hungry," Sam shrugged, clicking on a few promising news stories.

"By that comment, I'm guessing you haven't had breakfast," Dean concluded.

"Well, you guessed right. I'll eat a bit later," Sam replied, still not taking his eyes of the screen.

"When was the last time you ate?" Dean asked, and Sam didn't have to look over his shoulder to see his brother was frowning.

"Don't know," Sam just shrugged once again.

It was silent for a few moments before Dean spoke up, "You feeling alright, man?"

"I feel fine," Sam gave his automatic response.

"Yeah, well, I sense bullshit," Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Good for you," Sam cleared his throat before coughing into his fist a few times, turning away from his brother's view. He absentmindedly wiped his his bloody fist against his black sweats and continued browsing.

"Sam..." Dean began.

"Hey, so I'm pretty sure I found a case," Sam announced, successfully cutting off his brother. "Rock Hill, Missouri. Authorities found the body of a man down by the river a few days ago. They estimated him dead for about two months, but his neighbors claim that they saw him in perfect health just the other day..."

"Sam," Dean tried again.

"I'm thinking shapeshifter," Sam continued.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed in exasperation as he gently closed the laptop screen. "Slow down a bit, okay?"

Sam frowned, "Why?"

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, dude?" Dean said. "You look like someone threw you off a cliff."

"That's a new one," Sam scoffed in amusement.

"Sam, I'm serious," Dean sighed. He went to place a hand on Sam's forehead but Sam slapped it away before standing up, stumbling a little bit before gaining his footing.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam repeated.

"Like hell you are," Dean wasn't buying it. "Come on, lets head down to the kitchen. Maybe some food will make you feel better, or at least look... not so pale. I'll even make you an omelette for good measure."

"I think I'll pass. Why don't we hit the road and we'll be able to reach Missouri by tonight if we hurry," Sam went to walk away, but his brother grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"I'll have Garth go check it out, but you're not going anywhere, Sam," Dean shook his head.

"I can take care of myself, Dean, I'm not a little kid anymore." Sam grounded his teeth together. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

Sam jerked free of Dean's grasp and headed towards his room. Surprisingly, Dean let him go without a fight. And if that didn't break Sam's heart a little bit, well... he'd never admit it.

* * *

For the next few days, Sam had done his best to avoid his brother's prying eyes. Ever since that little library fiasco, Dean had respected his brother's privacy, but Sam still woke up some mornings to find that there was a glass of water on his bedside table along with Tylenol. There were other days where Sam would go to the library and Dean would wordlessly come over to put a bowl of soup next to him before leaving him alone.

Sam didn't know why it annoyed him that his brother was looking out for him. He felt like he should be ecstatic and maybe it was a sign that his brother did care about him, but Sam didn't want to fool himself with false hope. Dean just needed Sam around long enough to close the gates of hell, and then afterwards Dean may just leave Sam by his lonesome for all he knew.

So when Sam started coughing so forcefully, he couldn't stop himself from going to his knees. He was hunched over on his shaky hands, coughing up blood onto the wooden floor below him. It felt like a lung was trying to force itself out of his body and Sam's body was wracking from the force of the coughing, and Sam started to freak out when he couldn't breath.

* * *

Dean was in the kitchen, preparing himself some food, when he heard the coughing start. His first instinct was to run over to the source of his brother and demand Sam to see that he wasn't _okay_ and that he needed to let someone take care of him before he really was in trouble. But, for Sam's sake, Dean had to square his shoulders and clench his fists so that he would stay put. Sam had to break first, it was his life and Dean couldn't control a situation that his brother didn't want help with.

However, when Dean heard the wheezing, he didn't hesitate to let his plate drop from his hands as he quickly started sprinting towards the noise. By the time the plate hit the ground, Dean was already in the library and he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

Sam was on his hands and knees, coughing up blood onto the floor while hacking so forcefully that his body was shaking.

"Shit..." Dean cursed, running to kneel by his brother's side. He placed a hand on his brother's back. "You got to calm down, Sammy."

"D'n?" Sam coughed in between wheezing. "Can't... breath..."

"If you're talking to me then you can breath damn fine," Dean replied, his worry causing his voice to become stern. "Calm down, Sam. If you get worked up it's gonna get worse. Just let it out."

When Sam showed no signs of calming down anytime soon, Dean threw every thought aside and pulled his brother into his arms to cradle his brother's head against his chest.

"Match my breathing, Sammy," Dean coaxed.

Dean knew that his shirt was going to be covered and blood, but he didn't care. If he could get Sam to calm down and _breath_ then things would be much better.

It took a few minutes, which seemed like eternity to Dean, until his little brother was able to take a shaky, yet deep, breath on his own.

"You good?" Dean asked quietly, his hold around his brother firm.

"I'm fine," Sam went to disentangle himself from his brother to stand up.

Dean didn't stop him, but there was anger flashing in his eyes, "Can you cut the bullshit? You are _not_ fine and I don't care if you try to deny it, Sam. It's easy to see."

"I'm..." Sam began.

"I swear to god, if you say 'I'm fine' one more time I will personally kick your ass myself," Dean threatened.

Sam's face grew determined, "Just let it go, Dean, alright?"

"Let it go?" Dean demanded. "Sam you just had a coughing fit that turned into a damn panic attack! How on earth am I supposed to let _that_ go?"

"I'm not..." Sam tried to cut in.

Dean interrupted his brother once again, "No. Let me speak, you shut up and you listen to me very carefully 'cause I'm gonna only say this once. I get it, okay? You're an adult, you're not a kid, but god Sammy, you have to see that you're just wasting away, man. You gotta let someone help you. Let _me_ help you!"

"Yeah, well maybe it's best if you just leave it be," Sam's posture was rigid, and Dean could sense his brother's tension.

"What the hell is going on with you man? Why won't you let anyone take care of you?" Dean exclaimed.

"Maybe because I'm not worth being taken care of!" Sam burst out.

Dean froze in place, mainly out of shock at what he just heard.

When Sam finally realized exactly what had come out of his mouth, he seemed to deflate and his posture turned into defeat.

Had Dean heard his brother correctly? Guilt flashed through him as he wondered when he let things get so bad between them. How could _Sammy_ think he wasn't worth it? Dean thought he was. "Sammy..."

"Dean, just don't okay?" Sam sighed. "I don't need your pity."

"Good, because what I was about to say isn't pitiful, Sam. Look at me, man," Dean said.

When Sam didn't look up from where he was staring at his feet, Dean walked up to him and tilted his brother's face up so they could talk eye to eye. "Listen to me, Sammy. I don't know where on Earth you got that crazy idea, but you're damn wrong. You're worth saving, you're worth being taken care of when you're not yourself. You're worth it to _me_. Sam, you're a pain in the ass, but you're _my_ pain in the ass little brother. I'm not going anywhere whether you like it or not."

"What about what Cas said? You didn't say anything back..." Sam was close to tears and he hated himself for it.

"What?" Dean frowned in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sam."

"When Cas said I was an abomination..." Sam began.

"He didn't mean it like that, Sam," Dean sighed. "Besides, it was years ago and times were much more tense than the are now. Cas sees you as a ally, a friend and if you haven't proved yourself to him yet after everything you've done, then he's a blind son of a bitch."

"But how... I didn't look for you in purgatory but I didn't... you wanted me gone..." Sam looked like he was about to have a break down.

"Sam..." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "If I wanted you gone, you would've been gone a long time ago. Right now in this crappy world, you're the only thing that's giving me the will to be alive. I can't lose you, you're the only family I got left."

Sam just nodded as he felt a tear finally break lose and Sam quickly wiped it away, only to have more spill over. Sam just looked back at the ground, not wanting Dean to see him cry like a five-year old.

"Hey," Dean gripped his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Come here," Dean gently wrapped his arms around his brother's back and drew him into a welcoming and calming embrace.

Sam broke down at the point and clutched onto his brother as he silently felt tears fall down his face, his breathing occasionally hitching every now and then.

"Stone number one, Sam," Dean said. "We're either in it together or not at all."

Sam just nodded and pulled away a few minutes later, wiping away the last of the offending tears that were falling down his cheeks. he cleared his throat. "Stone number one," He repeated.

"Don't you forget it," Dean nodded. "Come on, enough with the chick-flicks, yeah? Lets get you into bed and you can catch a few hours of sleep."

Sam just nodded as he let his brother guide him through the halls. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he felt drained and just so damn _tired._ Sleep actually sounded really appealing at that moment.

When they arrived at Sam's room, Sam just walked inside and crawled back under the covers. If he felt another blanket drape over him and a hand slightly ruffle his hair, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he felt himself slip into a deep sleep, feeling a sense of comfort as he knows that his brother is just a call away if he needed him.

* * *

 **Don't forget to request prompt if you want to! You can request as many as you like :-)**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed it and I hope it fit the prompt well!**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another prompt down! This one is from TotallyChic:**

 **"What if Dean is the one that hurts Sam in any way, either by accident or possession, and when Sam wakes, he convinces a guilty Dean that it's not his fault."**

 **Enjoy! And feel free to request prompts of you're own! For anyone who needs the rules you can find them in the A/N from the beginning of Chapter 1.**

 **Set sometime in season 3:**

* * *

They were hunting a demon when it happened, so Sam really shouldn't be surprised that things ended the way they did. Dean was meaning to get an anti-possession tattoo for awhile, but had never gotten around to it. Looking back on it, Sam really wished he convinced his brother to get it sooner, because if he had, he wouldn't have been in the situation he was in at the present moment. At that moment, Sam was staring into the black eyes of a demon that was in possession of his brother's body.

The two brothers were investigating an abandoned library when Dean had been taken over. Sam had taken his eyes off of his brother for less than a minute to look through a stack of old scrolls. Imagine his surprise when he felt someone grab the collar of his jacket and toss hm to the other side of the room, knocking over some shelves and then hitting a wall in the process.

"Sam, it's nice to finally meet the famous Winchester. Well, Winchesters, if I may add Dean, but he's a little... preoccupied at the moment," The demon smiled a dry kind of smile.

"Dean?" Sam tried, but he had a feeling his brother couldn't hear him. No, that would be too easy for them.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm afraid your brother is currently unavailable," The demon drawled. "I can leave him a message if you like."

It felt so weird and definitely _not right_ to hear his brother talk in that sort of voice, let alone say _sweetheart_.

"Let him go," Sam warned.

"Now why should I do that?" The demon asked in a sing-song voice. Yep, that definitely surpassed creepy and now downright uncomfortable to hear the words that was coming out of his brother's mouth, even if it was a demon.

"Please, I'll do anything," Sam pleaded.

"Well, you see, I can kill you first and let him deal with the guilt," The demon suggested.

"Not if I get rid of you first," Sam growled. " _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..."_

The demon growled before it successfully cut off Sam's exorcism with a wave of its hand.

The younger Winchester gasped as his air supply was suddenly cut off. Struggling, Sam reached into his pocket, gripping a flask of holy water before managing to throw it at the demon, who screamed in a mix of agony and rage as its focus was broken and Sam was able to breath. Coughing for a few moments as Sam tried to catch his breath, he tried to stand up.

However, as he rose into a crouching position, he felt his wrist be caught in a bruising grip as his arm was suddenly yanked behind his back. Sam cried out when he felt his shoulder pop out of place, but he just threw more holy water at the demon. When the demon finally let him go again, Sam began the exorcism again.

" _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii..."_

The demon shouted in rage as Sam continued.

"O _mnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te...cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare..."_

It screamed again and launched out at Sam, who punched the creature in the face as he continued, "A _de, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis...Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine..."_

The demon seemed to start to twitch in pain, but not before charging at Sam and clawing out with his hands. Sam felt shallow fingernails scrape his face and he ducked out of the way hissing through the pain as he finished the exorcism. "Q _uem inferi tremunt...Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."_

Finally, black mist erupted from Dean's mouth and the demon was forced from his brother's body, which crumpled to the ground.

Sam bent over slightly as he tried to catch his breath. "Oh, holy shit," he muttered through his panting.

After taking a few moments to compose himself, Sam stood up in a standing position, turning his attention to his brother who was still on the ground.

"Dean?" Sam asked hesitantly, cradling his injured limb and ignoring the feeling of blood dripping down his face.

When his brother didn't answer, Sam didn't hesitate to rush over to kneel at his side, being mindful of his own injuries. Sam was sure that his shoulder was dislocated, but that didn't matter right now. Sam would tend to himself when he knew that his brother was okay.

"Dean!" Sam used his good arm to shake Dean's shoulder.

Finally after a minute or two, Dean stirred.

"Hey, you back with me, man?" Sam asked.

"My head hurts," Dean complained as he sat up and rubbed his head. "What happened?"

"I told you to get that anti-possession tattoo earlier," Sam sat down next to him.

Dean's eyes widened, "Wait, I got..."

Sam nodded.

Dean finally turned his head to get a good look at his brother. Immediately, he noticed the way Sam was holding his arm, the blood on his face, and felt the guilt that flashed across face for a split second before it was gone.

"Your shoulder hurt?" Dean asked, a small slip worry managing to escape into his tone.

"Yeah," Sam admitted, "Not broken. I think it's just dislocated."

Dean got to his feet and carefully helped his brother into a standing position, making sure not to jostle his brother's injured shoulder.

"Come on, Sasquatch. Let's go get that checked out," Dean began to head out the door and towards the car.

Sam easily fell into line with him, taking care to keep his arm firmly in place. "Can't you set it yourself?"

"Not this time," Dean shook his head as he went over to open the passenger side of the car for Sam. "Get in."

"I can handle myself, Dean," Sam protested. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Just shut up and get into the car, alright?" Dean replied, his sour mood seeping into his tone.

Sam got into the car and Dean closed the door before walking over to climb behind the wheel. They pulled out of the parking lot and cruised onto the road. The closest ER was ten minutes away and throughout the whole drive, Sam noticed that his brother had a death grip on the wheel and the eerie quiteness was enough to set him on edge.

"You're thinking too much," Sam broke the silence.

"No, I'm not," Dean denied.

"I know what you're thinking. It wasn't your fault, Dean," Sam reassured his brother. "It's not that big of a deal, alright?"

"I dislocated your shoulder, Sam," Dean shot him a look. "Not to mention that it looks like a cat attacked your face."

"The _demon_ dislocated my shoulder," Sam correct. "Come on, Dean, you were possessed."

"Doesn't make a difference." Dean sighed.

Sam knew it was hopeless to argue anymore with his brother and just resigned to silence for the rest of the car ride.

The trip to the ER was uneventful to say the least. Dean filled out phony insurance forms while the doctor took Sam back to clean up the cuts on his face and to set his shoulder before putting him into a sling.

When the two brothers got back to the motel, Sam instantly just climbed onto one of the beds and passed out. He was so tired that he just needed a few hours of sleep.

When he woke up, he opened his eyes to see a tired Dean sitting on his own bed while looking at some newspaper articles on their laptop. By taking one glance at his brother, Sam knew that Dean was being worn away by guilt, and it bugged him. Dean didn't do anything wrong...

"I can hear you thinking loud and clear," Sam spoke softly, his voice a little croaky from sleeping. "It's not your fault, Dean."

"I'm not thinking about that," Dean replied smoothly. "Besides, you already got your point across loud and clear."

"So the death glare you're giving the computer is about something else and not self loathing?" Sam challenged. "I know you, Dean. Listen to me, cause I've said it once and I'll say it again. It was not your fault."

"I should've gotten that tattoo earlier. If I had, this wouldn't have happened," Dean replied. "It's as simple as that. It was my fault this happened, and you can't deny that."

"Fine. It was your fault it happened," Sam began, "Only if it was my fault that you're gonna be sent to hell at the end of your year."

"Sam, that's not fair," Dean looked over at his brother. "That was _not_ your doing, it was my choice that I made."

"Good, then we're in agreement. It's not your fault," Sam repeated.

Dean smiled a small smile, "You're a manipulative little bastard."

"I've been called worse," Sam chuckled.

"Go to sleep, Sammy," Dean replied, letting a little bit of fondness creep into his voice.

"Only if you get some sleep too," Sam compromised.

"Fine," Dean sighed. "I could use a few hours myself." He shut down the computer and placed it on the nightstand before climbing under his blankets. There was a moment of silence before Dean quietly said, "Night, Bitch."

Sam rolled on his good side, trying to hide the smile as he replied with, "Jerk."

* * *

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This Prompt is from Averystorm**

 **How about teenage Sam (around 15 or 16) gets sick with the flu or strep throat and ends up having to miss out on something that he was really looking forward to, like a school dance or something he was looking forward to learning in school that day or even just hanging out with friends, and Dean is an awesome older brother and takes care of Sam and tries to help him feel better about missing out on something he was excited about.**

 **Other Notes: I might've gotten a little carried away with this one, but I hope it's still what you're looking for!**

 **Don't forget to submit a prompt if you want to! The rules cane be found in the first A/N of Chapter 1!**

* * *

Sam knew he was coming down with something from the very beginning of the school day, he just really didn't want to admit it to himself. He had his Prom tomorrow and he had asked out a really nice girl who agreed to accompany him to the dance. If it was one thing that Sam was looking forward to, it was one night as a normal teenager before he was whisked away to a new town and a new school.

It wasn't that Sam wasn't used to it, he was. It's how his whole life had been, but it still didn't keep him from hating it more than he already did. If it weren't for Dean being there, he'd probably would've ran away from the life a long time ago. His big brother had to even stop him from doing just that more times than Sam wanted to admit. Seeing the hurt and the disappointment from his brother every time Sam tried to run burned through Sam's soul, making him feel ashamed of trying to take the coward's way out.

Now, being sixteen going on seventeen in a few weeks, Dean wasn't around as much anymore. In fact, Dean wasn't in town at the moment, Sam was actually left to his own accords with John off somewhere in a cabin hunting god-knows-what. He'd been shipped off to stay with Pastor Jim until further notice and now that Sam's thought about it, he's worried that his father wasn't okay. John had been hunting for almost two weeks now and it rarely ever takes that long to finish a hunt. Either his father was in trouble or the hunt was just taking longer than planned.

That didn't matter now, though. By the end of the school day, Sam felt like shit, it was as simple as that. He felt cold and hot at the same time, his throat was scratchy and he was nauseous as hell. Not to mention that his nose was clogged and he was stuck breathing through his mouth.

When Sam returned to Pastor Jim's place, he walked straight in and threw his backpack in the bedroom he was staying at before throwing himself on the bed. He really couldn't get sick now, he would be so disappointed and upset if he missed the dance just because of a stupid _virus_.

So Sam did what he did best, he stayed busy and forgot about his worries. While doing homework, Sam ran into some complications. One, his whole body ached. Two, his head was pounding. Three, he was so damn tired, not to mention sweaty.

"Sam?" Pastor Jim called from the main room.

"Coming," Sam called back, walking out of his room while trying to ignore his shaky legs that were in danger of collapsing underneath him.

When Sam emerged into the main room he as greeted with the sight of Pastor Jim hovering over the table, looking at some papers.

"You called me?" Sam politely asked.

"I wanted you to take a look at these papers, I need your opinion on something..." Pastor Jim glanced up at the youngest Winchester. His eyebrows furrowed. "You alright, son? No offense, but you look quite terrible."

Sam waved it off, "I'm fine." He slowly made his way over to the table. "What am I looking at?"

"Your daddy called and asked me if I could look into something, but I'm afraid I hit a dead end on this one," Jim admitted. "A female went missing in the woods two weeks ago. No one knows who her family was or even when she had left town. They thought she had left years ago, and yet, there's evidence to believe she never left at all, just went into hiding."

"If she went into hiding then was someone after her?" Sam frowned.

"Your father thought that maybe a Wendigo got ahold of her, but from what he's dug up, there's no Wendigos in the area," Jim explained.

Sam shook his head, "Wendigos can be unpredictable, it wouldn't make sense for her to go into hiding because of a creature like that, let alone hide in it's natural habitat."

"So what do you think might be after her?" Jim asked.

"It could be a number of things. Demons, a vengeful spirit, vampire, or even werewolves? I'm not entirely sure. Does he have anything else that might help? Maybe similar disappearances?" Sam looked up at the older man.

"I'll see if I can dig a little deeper to see if there's something he hasn't found yet," Jim sighed. He placed a hand on Sam's forehead. "You feeling okay, son? You're awful warm."

Sam cleared his throat, "I'm fine."

One look from Pastor Jim stated that the older man didn't buy it. "Why don't you go lie down? I'll head to the library to see if I can get anymore research done."

Sam backed away from the table, feeling his stomach turn. Pastor Jim must've seen Sam's face turn green, because the next thing the youngest Winchester knew, he was bent over the sink, puking his guts out.

"That's it, just get it up, Sam," Pastor Jim was supporting Sam from behind, knowing that if he let go then Sam's legs might not support his weight.

When Sam finished his reunion with his lunch, Pastor Jim reached over to turn on the sink to clean the excess bile down the drain and then allowed Sam to wash out his mouth.

"On second though, maybe I should stay here," Pastor Jim second guessed.

"I'm fine, Pastor Jim," Sam coughed.

"I beg to differ," Jim shook his head.

Sam backed away and stumbled for a minute before regaining his balance. "It's just some bad food I ate," He lied, trying to convince himself more than the person standing in front of him.

"I'll make a few phone calls," Jim amended. "Why don't you go lie down, Sam?"

"No, if you won't go to the library then I can go for you," Sam offered.

"Sam, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" Sam frowned.

"Because it's obvious you're ill, son."

"As I said before, I am fine," Sam objected, taking a few steps forward to fast. That was his first mistake because he felt the room spin in front of him before he fell to his knees.

"Sam!" Pastor Jim's voice was worried and Sam was faintly aware of the man kneeling beside him.

That was last thing he heard before he passed out.

* * *

When Sam came around for the first time, he was lying on something soft and knew that he was in his bed. He felt himself shivering and his stomach was not happy. He felt absolutely _sick_.

As if on cue, he felt his stomach turn and he scrambled from the bed, stumbling as a wave of dizziness struck him, but Sam was able to make it to the bathroom toilet before emptying his stomach.

It felt like hours before the heaving died down, but Sam knew it had to have been only a few minutes. He wasn't sure if he felt relieved that he was alone or disappointed, but he was happy that the tile floor was cold on his feverish skin. So, he just laid there on the tile floor as he welcomed the cold.

He must've fallen asleep sometime after that because the next thing he knew, he felt someone's hands on his shoulders and a worried voice calling his name.

"Sammy? Come on, man, you gotta open those eyes," A familiar voice ordered, but the shakiness in the voice conveyed its worried.

From then on, Sam only heard snippets of the conversation.

"...burning up..."

"...need to bring down...temperature..."

"...temperature?"

"...106..."

He blacked out again after that.

* * *

When Sam came around again, he was back in bed and there were bags of ice on his skin. He should've been ashamed of the whimper that left his mouth, but at that moment, he really couldn't care.

He felt someone squeeze his hand, "I'm right here, Sammy."

Sam knew that voice, but it took him a minute to remember their name. "D'n?"

"Yeah, it's me," Dean's voice was soft. "Try to get some rest, man."

Sam felt darkness greet him again.

The next time Sam came back to consciousness, it was for real this time. The bags of ice were gone and he was covered in blankets. There was also a soft snoring coming from the left side of the bed and when Sam opened his eyes, he was greeting with the sight of Dean sleeping in a chair next to him, looking rather exhausted.

How long had he been out for?

When Sam went to sit up, he let out a pained groan as his sore stomach muscles protested the movement.

That one sound made Dean startle awake. It took a minute for his brother to gather his surroundings before his head shot up. "Sammy? Hey, take it easy." Dean got up to help his younger brother sit up.

"What happened?" Sam asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"According to Pastor Jim, a bad case of the flu," Dean answered.

Sam frowned, "I don't remember..."

Dean chuckled sadly, "Yeah, I didn't think you would. Your fever kinda made you really out of it for awhile."

"Did Pastor Jim call you?" Sam asked.

"He said you were rather ill and that Dad needed some help with a case," Dean shrugged. "Got here to find you passed out on the bathroom floor with a fever of 106." He gave his brother a small smile. "Way to make us scared, bitch."

"Jerk," Sam replied automatically before he returned the smile. Then something dawned on him, "Wait, how long was I out?"

"Three days, give or take," Dean shrugged.

Sam's eyes widened, "Shit! I missed the dance!"

"Dance?" Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Didn't take you for the dance type, Sammy."

"Yeah, screw you," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's growing smirk. "I had a date, thank you very much, and now I bet she doesn't even want to talk to me."

"You even scored yourself a date? I taught you well. Way to make your old man proud," Dean laughed.

"Shut up," Sam shot back, but there was no heat in it, just disappointment. He was really looking forward to going to Prom. He knew it was stupid, but knowing John, Sam might never come close to getting that opportunity again.

Dean must've read Sam's thoughts because a frown settled on his face. "You're really put out about that, huh?"

"Just forget it, it's stupid," Sam shook his head.

"Hey, it's not stupid if it makes you upset, Sam," Dean chided. "Talk to me, man."

"What's there to talk about?" Sam shrugged. "I had a chance at being normal for one night and now it's gone."

"Oh, please, Sam, you normal? You're not a normal kid, Sam," Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Sam grumbled. "I knew you wouldn't understand." He laid back down on the bed before turning onto his side so that Dean wouldn't see the tears forming in Sam's eyes.

Sam didn't know why this situation was making him so emotional. If anything, if he knew Dean any better, when his brother saw how much it affected Sam, he'll make a comment about Sam being a girl and brush off the "chick-flick moment."

However, Dean surprised him with a gentle hand on his shoulder as his brother came to sit on the bed next to him.

"Hey, don't do that," Dean sighed as he went to roll his brother back over so he could look at him. When Dean saw that his brother was crying a deep furrow appeared in between his eyebrows. "Aw, Sam..."

Sam just shook his head closing his eyes and turning his face away.

"No, don't..." Dean gently turned his brother's chin back up so Dean could look at him. "I know, okay? I get it, I do. Is this really about the dance? 'Cause I get a sense it's about more than that."

"She really liked me, Dean, and I really liked her," Sam hated himself for the quiver in his voice. "When I was around her, she made me feel normal and not some freak."

Dean sighed before gently rubbing his brother's shoulders in a comforting gesture. "I know this life ain't perfect, man, but you still got me and Dad. You don't need a girl to make you happy. You've got a family that'll be there when you need them."

"Really? 'Cause Dad's not here," Sam shook his head.

"But I am," Dean smiled kindly.

"'Cause it's your job," Sam replied.

"Well, yeah, but you think I was forced into this job?" Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

Sam shot his brother a look that said 'Well, yeah.'

"Sam, if I didn't want to look after you, I wouldn't be here right now," Dean said. "Why do you think I drove eight hours straight so that I could be here with you?"

"'Cause Dad needed help with a case?" Sam guessed.

Dean gently slapped his brother's shoulder, "No, you moron. Dad asked _Pastor Jim_ for help. He called me to ask if I could look after you, even then, I didn't need much persuasion."

"What happens if one day you don't come?" Sam asked. "What happens if you leave me too?"

"Why? Because I think you're a freak? Sam, I hate to break it to you, but you've always been a freak," Dean laughed. "Even then, I would never leave you, dude. Family is family. You're my brother, Sam. Nothing will ever change that." Dean used his hand to wipe some of the tears from his brother's face. "Now, quit crying before you turn into a girl."

Sam laughed. There was the joke he was waiting for. "You sure you didn't turn into one? That was quite a speech."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

Sam just smirked at him.

"Why don't we head down to the kitchen and I'll make us some grub?" Dean suggested. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Sam retorted.

"Yeah, well, looking after your ass if a difficult job. I need food," Dean quipped.

Sam just laughed. Dean was right. He didn't need normal as long as he had a family that he could always rely on.

* * *

 **Was it good? Was it Bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This prompt is from Hyb108:**

 **Pre-series, Dean and John unintentionally neglect Sam and his "value" on a hunt, and Sam ends up injured because he saves them. All yours!**

* * *

It all started when they were in Salem, Massachusetts hunting down a witch that was killing innocent people for the fun of it. It was a pretty interesting case, if Sam had to admit it to himself. The witch they were tracking down was either burning people at the stake or merely just hanging them with a noose. It was like the opposite of the Salem Witch Trials and for that, Sam was curious as to why the witch was doing what they were doing. Why try to create a spectacle that would just draw attention to that convict? It was rather a stupid move, in Sam's opinion.

Anyways, Sam had turned sixteen a few weeks prior and had finally gained the chance to join his Dad and Dean on a hunting trip. It took a hell of a lot of convincing for them to say yes, but at the end of the day, Sam found away to get them to reluctantly agree. It might've taken some threatening of sneaking on the hunt, or finding his own case to hunt, but John just sighed in exasperation and told him to pack his bags.

Twenty hours later, John surprised his two sons when he checked into the Hawthorne Hotel. Sam had been more surprised at the fact that John was willing to pay over a hundred dollars per night for three nights, considering they never did that. When Sam asked, however, John just told him to consider it as a late birthday present. For that, Sam just smiled and didn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

However, Sam should've known that it was too good to be true. He should've known that this kind of luxury didn't come from the goodness of one's heart. Especially not his father's. Not that John hasn't ever been generous, he has, it's just with the struggles of being a hunter, you don't exactly earn a decent amount of pay. Looking back at it, Sam should've known that the hotel had been some sort of bribe that John was trying to set on him.

"What do you mean I have to stay here?" Sam demanded. "You said I could tag along on this hunt!"

"I said you could accompany us to Salem, I didn't say that you were coming to hunt," John corrected.

"That is so not fair," Sam crossed his arms, not caring that he was acting like a child. "Dean gets to go every time, but you just leave me behind to fend for myself."

"Well this time, you have us," John replied, his voice calm. "We'll just be running a few errands while you go enjoy the city."

"Enjoy the city? With a killer witch on the loose? I should be out there with you hunting this bitch down," Sam shook his head.

"You will be helping us, Sam," Dean reassured his brother. "You'll be doing the bookwork from here while we go hunt down a lead."

"But I'll be more help if I'm there with you," Sam protested.

"You won't be no good if you just get in the way," John shook his head.

"I've been training my ass off for the past six years because you said that I'll be going on my first hunt by the time I get my license," Sam pointed a finger at his father. "And you're always on me about abiding to my word."

"Sam, that's enough," John grounded his jaw. "You're to stay here or stroll around the city, but do not under any circumstances go after this witch."

"And you trust him to abide by that?" Dean shook his head in amusement.

Sam just glared at his brother.

"Enough you two," John grabbed his coat. "Sam, we'll be back in four hours. If we're not, then you know who to call."

Sam sighed in resignation and just nodded. "Pastor Jim."

"Good," John seemed pleased. He turned to Dean, "Ready?"

"Let's go," Dean replied.

And so they left Sam to his own accord, the door closing behind them. Sam clenched his fists together in annoyance. So much for family effort.

* * *

By the time night rolled around, Sam was growing increasingly anxious as Dean and his father had yet to return. He had tried calling both of them with no luck and it was causing Sam to lose his mind. Usually they never failed to answer when he called, and something about this whole situation just seemed wrong, and it was making Sam unsettled.

So when his phone finally rang with Dean's caller ID, Sam picked it up on the second ring.

"What the hell, Dean? Are you guys okay?" Sam asked immediately.

"Oh, they're just fine, sugar," A female voice drawled on the other line.

Sam felt himself tense up, "Who is this?"

"They call me Charlene. I have a feeling you already know who I am though."

"The witch," Sam growled.

"Now, now, let's not go around and call people names," Charlene clicked her tongue in disapproval. "I have a feeling your daddy taught you better than that."

"What the hell do you want?" Sam demanded.

"I want you to know that you've got twenty-four hours to turn yourself into the police, claiming responsibility for the murders and your family goes free."

"Why? What's in it for you?" Sam wasn't amused.

"I get to escape this dreaded town," Charlene snarled.

"Couldn't you do that anyway?"

"Not if they've got an APB out on me as a suspect."

"Give me one good reason why I should believe you."

"You don't have a choice, sugar. Either you do what I say or your brother and father are dead by sunrise," Charlene threatened. "And trust me, I know there's nothing you wouldn't do for family."

"And if I don't?"

"Then, well, that's a dear shame. You've got yourself only six hours now."

"What?" Sam was shocked. "What happened to the twenty-four hours?"

"You just lost eighteen for wasting my time. Tick-tock, Sam. This is going to be fun."

With that said, the line went dead.

* * *

It took an hour for Sam to track the phone call, another hour to drive to the hiking path in a stolen car, and another hour to track down the cabin in the middle of the woods. Why on Earth the witch was hiding there, he had no clue, but it reminded him eerily of Hansel and Gretel.

Sam was pissed, and he had every right to be. He _warned_ Dean that something like this would happen eventually if him and Dad had kept going into hunts completely blind. Did they ever listen to him? No! It drove him insane. He always insisted on the research, on the carefully laid out plans, but they still neglected his value on their damn hunting cases! Now he had to save their asses from a homicidal witch that could have very well burned them at the stake for all he knew. This was Salem, Mass. after all.

Sam wasn't going in blind, however. He had grabbed two different pistols loaded with iron rounds and had them strapped to his belt loops and an iron chain with a cross on his neck. He knew what he was dealing with, a witch with a vengeful attitude. He just needed to get close enough to stop her and then he could finally show his stubborn brother and father what he was truly capable of.

Sneaking closer to the cabin, Sam didn't expect the ambush. Looking back, he probably should've guessed that Charlene knew he wouldn't have given in without a fight. He should've known that she was just luring him into a trap, but he didn't. So when he felt an invisible force send him flying into a tree, he knew he deserved that for his stupidity.

When his vision stopped swimming, he saw Charlene leaning over him with a smirk on her face.

"God, you are so predictable," She laughed. "I thought it would've been harder to take you down, but man, that was just way too easy. I can see why they left you behind. Are you the weak link in the family?"

"One's not weak if they know how to take their enemy down," Sam growled and yanked the chain from his neck and smashed it into Charlene's face.

The witch screamed in agony, stumbling away from Sam as she clutched her face protectively.

Sam got to his feet, ignoring the dizziness that swam before him. He must've hit his head when he was thrown into the tree. "How does that taste, bitch?"

Charlene just growled and started to chant something. The last thing that Sam had expected was for her to create a fireball and throw it at him. He tried to duck it, but when he smelled his shirt burning, he cursed, rolling on the ground to put himself out. He felt his back searing in pain and knew that he had been burned. Withdrawing his gun, Sam aimed but, Charlene was already there, knocking the gun away from herself as it went off. Sam felt something pierce his thigh and he shouted in pain. Charlene just laughed in his face, throwing him to the ground.

Sam landed on his stomach, as he heard a gun cock behind him.

"And look at you, sugar," Charlene sounded pissed. "Did you really think that you could beat me? Did you honestly think that you were going to get out of this alive?"

"No, I just knew you'd provide a distraction," Sam gritted his teeth, spinning around and shooting twice with his other gun.

Charlene didn't even have time to react as the iron bullets hit her chest.

"No one messes with my family," Sam stated.

Charlene just looked at him in shock as she fell to ground.

Sam only had two seconds to catch his breath before he registered that fact that he had to get to his brother and father in the next few minutes or he was going to pass out.

Getting painfully to his feet, Sam took off his burn shirt and wrapped it tightly around bleeding thigh, the bullet wound stinging like hell. Stumbling towards the cabin, Sam tried to distract himself from the fact that his back ached like hell, his head was growing increasingly fuzzy and his leg wanted to give out from the pain.

Instead, Sam just hurried to the cabin, kicked the door in with his good leg and looked around.

The Cabin was completely empty and Sam wanted to scream in frustration. Had that witch really led him to an empty cabin?

Sam was about to leave when he noticed the hidden compartment in the floor.

 _A cabin with a basement? That's new,_ Sam observed. Bending down to open the compartment was torture. But when he got closer he could hear two voices down there.

"Can't you get those ropes undone?" An annoyed voice asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but in case you hadn't noticed that bitch took my dagger, so no, I can't," Another voice snapped. That was Dean, there was no doubt about it.

When he opened up the door, Sam called out, "Dean?"

There was a moment of silence before Dean called back, "Sammy?"

"Thank god," Sam sighed in relief as he carefully descended the ladder and ran over to where his father and John were tied to two separate stakes.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" John was confused.

"Saving your asses," Sam grumbled as he limped his way towards his brother first.

"And where the hell is your shirt?" Dean asked.

"That's what you're asking me right now? Not, where's the witch? Or I'm sorry?" Sam raised an eyebrow as he untied the ropes that held his brother to the stake.

"Where is that bitch?" Dean asked.

"Shot in the chest," Sam answered as he made his way towards his father, but stumbled. "Shit," He cursed in pain.

"Sammy?" Dean was suddenly by his side. His eyes widened, "Sam... your back."

"She threw a fireball at me," Sam's words were becoming slurred. Placing two hands to his thigh to check the blood-flow.

"Sam? Where else are you hurt?" Dean crouched down to examine his brother in the faint light.

John was observing his youngest's movements, "Sam, are you bleeding?"

Dean's eyes shot up to his father, registering what he had said, before looking at where Sam's hands were applying pressure to his leg.

"D'nt f'l g'd," Sam's felt his eyes began to close on their own occur.

"Shit, he's been shot!" Dean's voice was becoming fuzzy.

"Untie me!" John barked an order, concern coating his voice.

Suddenly there were two pairs of hands on him and Sam heard their voices, but they seemed like miles away.

"We need to move him," John stated. "Can you carry him up the ladder?"

"If I can get him on my back," Dean nodded.

Sam felt his arms being wrapped around someone's neck and Dean's voice broke through his subconscious. "I need you to help me, Sammy. Can you warp your legs around me? It's the only way I can get you up this ladder, dude."

Sam felt himself get in a piggy-back position on his brother's back and if it weren't for the fact that he was fighting unconsciousness, then he would've gratefully accepted defeat.

However, as soon as they were ground level, Sam felt himself slip away and he knew no more.

* * *

When Sam began to come around, the first thing he was aware of was the fact that he was on a comfortable surface and someone was next to him, humming softly. Even in his groggy mind, Sam could make out the faint rhythm.

"Hey Jude, huh?" Sam's croaky voice made him wince.

"Shut up, bitch," A fond voice replied, "Care to open those eyes for us, Sammy?"

It took Sam a minute, but his eyes finally began to blink awake.

"There you go," Dean's voice sent a wave of comfort over him. "That's good, Sam."

When Sam's vision cleared, he surveyed his surroundings. They were in a different motel, and Sam was lying on one of the beds.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Well, for one, you got shot," Dean stated. "Then according to you, you had a fireball thrown at you, and on top of that a minor concussion. I don't know about you, but considering you saved our asses, that's pretty bad ass."

Sam laughed, but winced at the pain it caused. "Where's Dad?"

"He went to make a food run. He was gonna pick up some pain meds on the way back," Dean replied. "We owe you an apology, Sam."

Sam frowned, "No, you don't."

"Yes, we do," Dean said. "You always warned us that going in blind was gonna backfire on us. We never listened to you. If we had just let you be apart of this hunt, then this wouldn't have happened."

"It's fine," Sam shrugged, or at least tried and failed to do so.

"No, it's not fine. You almost got killed by trying to save us," Dean shook his head. "That shouldn't have had to happen in the first place."

"You're okay, that's all that matters," Sam reassured him.

"But if we had lost you..." Dean broke off, and rubbed a hand across his tired face.

"But you didn't," Sam told him. "We got through it."

Dean smiled, "Yeah, I guess we did, huh?"

Sam just yawned in a response.

"Get some rest, dude, you've earned it," Dean rubbed a soothing hand across his shoulders.

Sam found himself nodding off not too long after that.

* * *

 **Sorry I've been gone so long! I've been working on other projects, and as I said in the beginning of this story, this is a side story that I'm working on alongside my main projects. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Don't forget to leave prompts if you have a request!**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know.]!**


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